I Had a Little Batman
by DCKidWing13
Summary: Just a cute little fic in which Bruce is working a lot around the holidays and a young Dick Grayson just wants a friend. Kind of a song-fic; based off of the Dreidel Song (a.k.a. I Had a Little Dreidel). Warning: Sadness and fluff.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**** If you know the Dreidel Song (a.k.a. I Had a Little Dreidel), then you'll probably know how most of this story will go, but you can still read. No, I am not Jewish and I do not own any DC characters. If I did, there'd be quite a few changes in the DCU. (Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't reread this and I don't use betas.)**

**I Had a Little Batman**

"Bruce…"

"Yes, Dick?"

"…I, um…well…um…"

"What is it, Dick?"

"It…It's just that…well… It's Winter Break."

"Yes, I know."

"…And you've been busy a lot lately…"

Bruce really did not know where he was going with this. "I suppose so."

"And with you being so busy and there being no school and all…" Bruce stared at him. Dick looked down and shuffled his feet. "Well… It's just that… I don't really have much to do. So…" Still keeping his head down, Dick looked at Bruce. He was clueless! Sometimes, Dick wondered if the title "World's Greatest Detective" was a bit of an exaggeration. "I, uh… I was wondering…if, um…maybe you could…"

"If I could what, Dick?" What was Dick trying to ask him?

Dick bit his bit. "…Could you maybe…if you're not busy or anything…um…maybe… d-do…something with me?" Dick bit his lip harder and started to get this bitter taste on his tongue.

"Do something with you? Like what, Dick?"

Dick released his lip and looked up. "Um, just anything, I guess." He gave a small smile. Bruce was going to spend time with him!

"Well, I don't know, Dick. I've got a lot of work to do. Business gets hectic around the holidays and WE really needs my help to keep things in order. Maybe some other time, Chum."

Well that stung. "…Oh. Okay." Dick tried hard to keep his face neutral and not look disappointed as he dragged his feet out of Bruce's study.

"Maybe Alfred's available," Bruce called after him. But Dick didn't want the Alfred. Besides, he was probably busy cleaning. He wanted to hang around with Bruce. He hasn't gotten the chance to in _months_. The most time he'd gotten with the man was when they were out patrolling as Batman and Robin. It was so ironic how the heartless demon that haunted Gotham's streets seemed to spend more time with the boy and be there for him more. '_At least Batman wants me around. He has time for me.'_

Dick walked into his room and shut the door. Yet again, he was reduced to playing with his toys. But he didn't want to play with them; he wanted to play with Bruce. He wanted to play with Batman, but Bruce wouldn't let Batman play. _'I guess I'll just have to play with my own Batman.'_

Dick searched his room for supplies. He came across a small box with sand he'd taken from when Batman and Robin were after some punk in San Diego. _'Sand is used to make castles. It should work.'_

He went straight to work. After compiling a heap of sand about eighteen inches tall, he started on the details: a huge chest, buff arms, tight abs, muscled legs, and a grim face. He took another section of sand and made a thin, long cape and a pointed-eared cowl. He carefully placed each one where they belonged and took a step back to view his finished product. It looked just like him! Dick felt so proud of himself. He carefully picked the model Batman up and… Dick felt an ache and sang a tune for his sadness:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of sand._

_And when I tried to hold him,_

_He crumbled in my hand. _

"Hey, Bruce."

"Hello, Dick. Plan on having fun today?"

"If I had something to do. Or simply just someone to hang out with. You know, someone to just talk with for a while. We wouldn't even have to talk that much if he didn't want to."

"Looking for something to do, hm?" Did he not hear that last part, or just chose to ignore it?

"Um…yeah."

"Well, you could always use your imagination." Pretending. How fun.

"…Maybe you can—"

"I've got to go, Chum. I'll be late the office, otherwise. We wouldn't want that." Bruce finished his coffee in one gulp and paced quickly out the door.

"No, we wouldn't." Dick slumped out of his chair, breakfast forgotten. He crawled his way up the stairs and dragged his way into his room.

'_He wants me to pretend. Sure, because that's what every kid is eager to get up and do each morning. But I don't have anything _else_ to do. And I don't have anyone to play with.' _Dick sat in the middle of the floor, pondering over what to do. _'Maybe I can pretend Batman IS here.'_

He closed his eyes and imagined a small Batman he could play with. He reached out to hug it and… He opened his eyes as he felt an ache and sang a tune for his sorrow:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of air._

_And when I tried to hug him,_

_He simply wasn't there. _

"Like he never is." Dick put his head in his hands and pouted the day away.

"Sorry I had to leave out in such a rush yesterday, Chum. You know how things are around the office."

"Yeah, I know."

"But today, I'm completely work-free. I don't have to go to WE for the next two days."

"Really?!"

"Really."

"Wow, that's great! 'Cause I was thinking that maybe today we can—"

"Oh, Bruce. There you are. It's almost 2:30. Are you ready?"

"Uncle Clark? What are you doing here?" Dick looked puzzled as Bruce got up and walked over to the Man of Steel. He kept looking at Clark's glasses as if he wanted nothing between them and his fist before they cracked so beautifully. Dick knew it was _Batman_ who was thinking about doing it.

"Bruce and I along with a few other Leaguers—Barry, Diana, Ollie—planned to have a meeting as our civilian selves a few months back. In a vote, Wayne Manor was chosen as our meeting place. It was majority rules: three to one."

Bruce growled. "I still think we would have been better off meeting at a café or even at Ollie's."

"Bruce, don't be a sore loser."

"Clark, don't get slapped to Jupiter."

"All right, all right. We'd better start this meeting. The others are already here. All except Ollie."

"Of course." They started to walk out of the room with Bruce looking like he was about to punch that Kryptonian back to Kansas.

"Wait!" Dick scrambled out of his chair. "I thought, maybe… I wanted to hang out."

"Sorry, Dick." Bruce started to head back out again. "This meeting isn't for kids. We're going to need some privacy for a while. But it won't last too long. I promise we can do something later. Maybe you can go play outside. Be careful, some of the snow melted, and Alfred put an old rug out there to air out."

Dick sighed as he stared at the spot his mentor once stood. "I can't believe I'd rather have school." He forced his way outside onto the enormous field. His feet sloshed around in mud until he no longer felt like walking. He sat down in the grass and silently wished for someone to play with. As he looked down into the mud, he sang a tune of the two days that had gone by:

_Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,_

_I made you out sand._

_And when I tried to hold you,_

_You crumbled in my hand._

_Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,_

_I made you out of air._

_And when I tried to hug,_

_You simply wasn't there._

By the time Dick was finished, he realized that he had already made half of a Batman out of the mud. His hands were filthy, but he kept sculpting. _'This is probably my best one yet. At least I can_ touch_ this one.'_

After a few more minutes of mud flying and dirt taste tests, Dick had himself a new Batman. He slowly creamed out the smallest of details for ten minutes while it harden a bit. Then, out of a moment of joy, he tossed it into the air and… He felt an ache and sang a tune for his fear:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of mud._

_And when I tried to toss him,_

_He stained his butler's rug._

"Like how my **blood** is going to when Alfred finds out."

Dick walked into the kitchen, still disappointed about the previous day. But today was going to be different. He was sure of it. Bruce had said so himself that he wasn't needed at WE today. So today dick knew he'd be able to get time with Bruce. He had to. But when he looked up, he saw a face that belonged to neither Bruce nor Alfred.

"Good morning, Dick."

"Uh, good morning to you, too, Dr. Leslie." Dick did one final look-over to be positive that he and his doctor were the only two around. "Um, not to be rude or anything, but… What are you _doing_ here? And where's Bruce and Alfred?"

"Ah. Well, in the middle of the night, Bruce had to go on an emergency mission as Batman. I tried to keep him here, but he insisted that it was urgent. So he asked me if I could watch over you until he gets back tomorrow."

"Oh. I see." Dick hung his head down. "And Alfred?"

"There was another emergency in the West that Bruce _was_ going to take care of before this new one popped up. They didn't give me very many details, but Alfred went to handle the problem. He should also be back tomorrow."

"Why was _Alfred_ sent for a mission?"

"I don't know. Apparently he knew the details and could handle it. Again, it was a last-minute thing and I was left with little information." Leslie saw the disappointed look on the boy's face and was upset with Bruce herself. He was definitely going to get a lecture. Dick started to walk away, so Leslie offered, "How would you like to go to the park?"

Dick looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged. "I guess."

"Good. We'll go after breakfast, okay?"

The ride to the park was a quiet one. Every now and then, Dr. Thompkins would ask Dick a question or make a comment. In turn, Dick would give a short answer or reply, or just simply nod his head. When they first arrived at the park, neither of them did much of anything. Eventually, some other adults found their way to Dr. Thompkins and she suggested that Dick look for kids to play with. So he wandered around aimlessly for ten minutes before stopping at a little frozen creek aligned with stones.

He shuffled the stones around with his feet for a few moments. _'I wish Batman were here.'_ Dick noticed a couple of rocks stacked on top of each other. They reminded him of the Sphinx. _'Maybe he can be.'_

For forty minutes, Dick gathered stones and staked them accordingly. He used mud (all the while trying not to think about the previous day) to hold certain part together and twigs to tighten lose places. After much hard work, he put the finishing touches on the cowl and stood back to admire his work. "Wow. It's great! Just like an action figure!" _'I bet Dr. Leslie would wanna see this.'_ He picked the stone Batman up by its muddy waist and… He bit his lip as he felt an ache and sang a tune for his pain:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of stones._

_And when I dropped him on my foot,_

_He nearly broke my bones._

Tears streamed down the side of dick's face as he clutched his foot and tried to keep his voice steady. "Or maybe he _did_ break my bones." He hopped on one foot back to Dr. Thompkins, leaving the failed attempt behind.

"Hey…Chum?"

"Hi, Bruce. Bye, Bruce." Dick walked right passed him to the other side of the room.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute. What's that you have there?"

"Oh, just some aluminum foil."

"Dare I ask what for?"

"Uh…art project."

"Mm-hm. Look, Dick, I'm sorry about having to leave on such short notice yesterday."

"It's okay."

"Did you have fun with Dr. Leslie?"

"…Sure…"

"Well, she let me have it pretty good when I got back this morning. Mentioned something about your foot?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just…dropped a stone on it. Nothing was broken." _'Just my heart.'_

"Ah. Well, I'm about to head over to the Office in half an hour. Thankfully, it's Christmas Eve, so I won't be there for more than two or three hours. Maybe afterwards, we can—"

"Excuse me, Sirs. Would either of you care to explain this?" Alfred had walked into the kitchen just then. He held out what looked like a really old rug with a giant— _'Gasp!'_

"Uh, gotta go, Bruce." Dick scurried out of the kitchen and into his room. He'd gotten out alive. _For now._ After waiting five minutes for the elderly man to declare war, Dick got to work on his "art project".

He spent the entire day in his room working on his latest creation. He wanted to get it perfect this time. There'd been over twenty failed attempts, but luckily he'd taken a bountiful amount of aluminum foil. Only twice did he leave his room: Once to go to the bathroom, and again to get lunch (he'd forgotten about the rug). After five hours of hard work, dedication, and about thirty small cuts, Dick figured he'd finally gotten it right. He picked it up to play with and… Dick's eyes stung as he felt an ache and sang a tune for his loneliness:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of tin._

_And when I tried to play with him,_

_He was not a real-life friend._

"No tin could ever replace Bruce." The boy sat surrounded by his failures as he sung a final tune for his defeat:

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of sand._

_And when I tried to hold him,_

_He crumbled in my hand. _

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of air._

_And when I tried to hug him,_

_He simply wasn't there. _

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of mud._

_And when I tried to toss him,_

_He stained his butler's rug._

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of stones._

_And when I dropped him on my foot,_

_He nearly broke my bones._

_I had a little Batman,_

_I made him out of tin._

_And when I tried to play with him,_

_He was not a real-life friend. _

Dick felt tears form as he finished his tune:

Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,

I made you out sand.

And when I tried to hold you,

You crumbled in my hand.

Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,

I made you out of air.

And when I tried to hug,

You simply wasn't there.

Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,

I made you out of mud.

And when I tried to toss you,

You stained your butler's rug.

Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,

I made you out of stone.

And when I dropped you on my foot,

You nearly broke my bones.

Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,

I made you out of tin…

Dick could no longer help but to cry as he struggled with the rest of his song.

…_And when I tried to play with you…_

***sniff*** _…You were not a real-life friend._

Dick cried out his loneliness until he gently fell asleep. He never realized that Bruce had come back from work. He never knew that Alfred asked Bruce about a Batman-shaped mud pile outside, a sand-Batman in his room, and a Batman sculpture made of stones that Leslie had discovered at the park. He never would have thought that Bruce was on his way to question Dick about it when he was stopped by his tune of sadness, sorrow, fear, pain, and loneliness as ache showed in his voice. He never could have imagined how Bruce's heart was broken that Christmas Eve.

"Wow! Look at all that snow! I can't wait to go out there!" Dick headed for the stairs to get his winter gear on when he nearly bumped into Bruce.

"Whoa, hold on there, Chum. Don't you want to open your presents first?"

"Bruce! Look at all that snow! It reminds of when Haley's Circus traveled in France one winter when I six. The stuff was _everywhere_!"

"It is nice. Merry Christmas, Richard."

"Merry Christmas, Bruce."

"Now, before you go get frostbites in places you didn't know were even _there_, don't you think you should see what _Santa_ got you?" He saw the insulted look on Dick's face and could help a small smile. "I'm kidding about Santa."

"You? Kidding? It's a Christmas miracle! And you're sure you didn't see three ghosts last night?"

"Positive. I'm not _that_ crazy. Now open your gifts already." Dick rushed over to the giant tree with dozens of presents underneath. Bruce and Alfred exchanged their gifts as they watched Dick shred through his own. Then, Dick shyly gave them their gifts from him before returning to the presents under the tree. The process of gift-wrap-throwing and one "thank you" after another seemed to last an eternity, but neither adult minded.

"Wow! Thanks so, so much, you guys! They're all great!" Dick shouted when he was finished unwrapping the last of his presents. Alfred immediately went to work with picking up the torn paper to recycle.

"You're not done yet, Dick."

"What do you mean?"

"You have one gift left." Dick looked puzzled as he watched Bruce open a closet and pull out a small, long box. It didn't have any wrapping and looked last-minute. But Dick hurried over to it nonetheless. "Here you go, Chum. My gift to you. I think you'll like it."

Dick flipped up the lid and his jaw slowly dropped as he looked inside. "Wha—I-I…Wow." He carefully picked the item up out of the box to better admire it, Bruce all the while watching his face. Dick examined every detail of his gift. It was about two feet tall and he could tell there was plenty of care and thought that'd gone into it.

"Do you like it?"

Dick, mouth still open, looked up to Bruce and whispered, "Love it."

"I thought you might."

"Wh—Where'd you get it from?"

"Well, I made it."

"_You_ did?"

"It took a long time, but it was worth it. And look…" Bruce placed his index fingers along the side of where the eyes would be, and then slid them back slowly to reveal a beautiful blue set of eyes. "…removable mask."

Dick grinned. "You did all that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you, Dick. You're my little bird." Bruce gave Dick a smile that he knew was reserved just for him, and gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. "Oh, I almost forgot. There's also this." Bruce turned the figure around to reveal writing engraved on the back. "It's a little hard to make out, but—"

" _I had a little Robin. I made him out clay. And when he's dry and ready, Oh, Robin, I shall play. Oh, Robin, Robin, Robin, I made you out of clay. And when you're dry and ready, Oh, Robin, we shall play._ I'll always be here for you. I'll be your Batman, but more importantly, I'll be your friend. I'll be whatever you need me to be because you're my Little Robin…" Dick had to stop for a moment as he recalled the name his mother once called him. A tear made its way down his cheek as he continued. "…and you deserve the best. I'm sorry I'm not the best parent. You deserve such a better person and a better life. You mean so much to me and I'm sorry I don't tell you that enough. If you ever feel lonely, sad, afraid, sorrowful, or hurt, just take this out and know that I'm there with you. I'll always love you no matter what you may do or say. Don't ever think differently. And I will always be there for you. I love you, Little Bird. Merry Christmas."

Bruce wiped Dick's cheeks and pulled him into a rare hug. "I love you, Little Bird."

"I love you, too, Bruce." Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and held him tightly while still holding the clay Robin. "This is the best gift ever. I'll always keep it. I promise."

Bruce knew that Dick would probably get rid of the thing during his teenage years, but let the boy make his promise anyway. "Come one. We need to get our coats on."

"What for?"

"I promised you that we'd do something together and we are. Now unless you want to freeze to death _and_ still get beaten in a snow-ball fight, I suggest you bundle up."

"Snow-ball fight? You're on!" Dick raced upstairs to get his winter gear on and played the day away with Bruce in the snow. They'd gotten frostbites in places they hadn't even known they _had_, but it was all worth it. And that night, Dick felt an ache in his fingers and sang a tune for his happiness:

_I have a little Robin,_

_Bruce made him out of clay._

_And when he gave him to me,_

_We played the day away._

_Oh, Batman, Batman, Batman,_

_I'll always love you, too._

_And even though I miss my dad,_

_I'll always have you._

"**Always**." Dick set the clay Robin on his night-table and smiled himself happily to sleep.


End file.
